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i've never written fic before, but if you can really bring around a huge fest like i used to see 4 or so years ago, my life would be made and i would definitely contribute
I mean, I’m posting this in the jily tag to see if there’s any interest in a fest this summer.
Here are all the pieces created for Jily Trope Fest!
Fics:
• #Jily by chierafied (celebrities)
• A Crowded Cupboard by remuslupinhumandisaster (hogwarts/enclosed space)
• As Lovers Go by jprongsx...
I love this fest! If you ship Jily, check it out. If you don’t ship Jily, check it out. :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
As Lovers Go
Chapter Two: The Walrus and His Queen
When Lily Evans asked him to fake date her, he didn't expect anything more than a good laugh and an open bar. (written for Jily Trope Fest.)
“Down that drink and dance with me,” James put a hand on her waist and pulled her into him. “I hear you’re a brilliant dancer.”
Up this close, he could see the freckles on her cheeks individually and smell the lavender in her shampoo. He also noted that her eyes weren’t completely green as they had flecks of something that someone much more articulate than himself would actually have noticed. Regardless she was still beautiful. Down, boy.
She broke his concentration when she finished off her Jameson and nudged his at him, which he obliged her with. “I am a brilliant dancer, but based off of your victory jives and other various antics, I know that you’ve got two left feet.”
A/N: Another University Jily AU. Just because I felt like it and the idea popped up in my head. Hope you enjoy this. Again, Lindsay and Kristina: you are the best for organising this! @jilyfest
With her heart beating in her throat, she ran from door to door, cursing Marlene for talking her into this. “You can do this, Lily,” she had said, “you’re a lioness fighting for her honour.” At the time, after having consumed a fair few glasses of wine, she had felt invincible. But now she was actually inside of the all-male college, she started to doubt her earlier prowess.
She had found the Gryffindor building soon enough and had strutted in looking like she belonged there, even though she was at an all-male college. She had run into a few freshers, but apart from a glance and some wolf-whistling – she was wearing a rather revealing little black dress – they paid her no heed. Stupid, she had thought. She had almost sent them a triumphant grin, because triumphant she had felt. Now she was sure that might still have had something to do with the alcohol high she had been riding on.
At least, she thought – nearly letting out a groan of frustration as yet another door did not open – she had been given Gryffindor. Anything was better than Slytherin and the chance of running into her former best friend. She would like to think he wouldn’t rat her out, but quite honestly, she was unsure of what he would do if he saw her. She had been lucky that Dorcas had felt brave enough to volunteer. She tended to have a thing for bad guys.
Yet, she thought, looking around fruitlessly, surely Slytherin boys would be thick-headed enough to forget to lock their doors during the festive lunch held in honour of the start of the new year in the Great Hall. Gryffindor boys, it appeared, had a little too much sense for that.
She was about to give it up when her eyes fell on a sign near the stairs, reading laundry room. A wide grin spread over her features and she nearly lunged for the stairs, sprinting down them to reach a basement filled with washing machines and dryers. She even laughed out loud when a few washing machines appeared to be doing their jobs and she quickly eyed the timers on every single one of them. One washing machine – in the back corner – had one more minute to go. She slumped against the wall next to it, taking out her phone and sent a message: Game on!
As the washing machine stopped, she quickly pressed the door to open and about three agonizing seconds later, it did. She reached in, taking a handful of wet, sopping clothes out and laid them on the table behind her. She was nearly finished when her hand suddenly held a shirt, which read Potter. She looked at the shirt – a deep burgundy red and gold – and wheel started to spin in her head as she recognized the name her former best friend had so often mentioned. Not in a positive way, might she add.
She shook her head, getting all the laundry out and then resorted to sorting through the items she had just retrieved. Her nose wrinkled when she noticed a white pair of socks between all the colourful items of clothing and she rolled her eyes. Boys…
A loud cough startled her and she froze before looking in the direction of the door. About five steps away from her, stood a boy with a large bag in his hands. His hair was sandy and flat and his eyes were narrowed slightly. Before she could even muster up a plan, he asked her: “What are you doing here?”
Her hands fell on the shirt she had been holding earlier, putting a smile on her face. “Just helping my boyfriend with his laundry,” she said and she complimented herself. Plausible explanation. And then: “Clearly, he is colour blind.” She gestured towards the white socks she had just dropped.
“Aha,” said the boy, still eyeing her carefully and – dare she say it – he seemed suspicious of her. “Very much the doting girlfriend, aren’t you?”
She smiled even wider. “That’s me,” she said.
Just when she thought she had gotten rid of him, he spoke up again. “What’s your boyfriend’s name then?” he asked.
Again, she spoke up before having thought things through: “James Potter.” She held out the shirt which read his name to the stranger in the laundry room.
Something shifted in his eyes before he grinned sweetly, letting out a low whistle. “Eyes on the prize, eh?”
“Yep,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She was sure girlfriends were not supposed to do that and Potter had a reputation come to speak of it. Not only did she recognize his name through her former best friend, but also because he was an enigma of sorts. Good-looking, star of Hogwarts’ soccer team and clever to boot. James Potter was a catch. “I got lucky.”
“Or he did,” said the boy next to her. “You’re doing his laundry for him, after all.”
“That’s right,” she answered, moving towards a dryer. She supposed she had to be careful, stealing one item of clothing – a very important one at that – was all she could do with this other boy in the room. She left the jersey reading Potter’s name on the table, and put all other items – including a few pairs of boxers, which she had tried to ignore – in the dryer. “He should be very grateful,” she added and then closed the dryer with a flourish and turned to the boy with – what she hoped was – a blinding smile.
The boy eyed the shirt on the table. “You’re forgetting his jersey.”
“Oh,” she said and then quickly picked it up, “obviously, you can’t put it in the dryer. It’ll get ruined.”
He eyed her strangely as she passed him, the shirt in her hands. Just when she was about to wave him a casual goodbye – and that would take some effort, considering the way all of her nerves were on edge – he spoke up.
“Where did you meet, Potter?” he asked.
She turned around, her knuckles whitening as her grip on the jersey tightened. “Oh, just…” she swallowed, “in his hometown.”
“So, you met him in Godric’s Hollow?” he asked and she could kiss him for the information he just so neatly handed her on a platter. He might as well have wrapped it up with a pretty bow.
“Yes,” she said, “my aunt Gertrude lives there and I was there for the summer. It was just a bit of a flirt at first, but then he wouldn’t stop asking me out…”
“And here you are,” he said, studying her. She felt a bit like a study object, but then – she thought – you didn’t get to see all that many girls at an all-male college. None at all, really.
“And here I am.”
“Okay,” he said, shrugging and putting his own clothes in the washing machine. He appeared to have separated neatly beforehand and she nearly smiled at that. “Better get Potter his shirt back.”
“Right,” she said and then she turned around. Her hand was on the handle, opening the door when the boy spoke up again.
“Tell James that Remus said hi,” he said casually and she could nearly hear the grin in his voice.
She sprinted out of the laundry room, up the stairs and through the halls. She needed to get out of Gryffindor hall.
“I cannot believe you stole James Potter’s fucking jersey!” Dorcas nearly squealed.
“I just can’t believe you went through his laundry,” Alice replied.
“What size is he, if you know what I mean?” Mary wiggled her eyebrows.
“Oh, stop it,” she said. “Aren’t you all proud? He’s for sure going to be annoyed by this.”
“Absolutely,” said Marlene, grinning wide and then she shook her head, “never thought you had it in you, Lily.”
Lily stood from the kitchen chair, walking towards the fridge and opening it to get a bottle of orange juice out. “Now, Marlene,” she said, pouring herself a glass, “that’s just insulting.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” said Marlene, rolling her eyes. “You’re usually such a goody-two-shoes.”
“Clearly,” said Alice then, giggling, “she’s also really good at sniffing out other people’s laundry.”
“It was just washed!” Lily exclaimed and then, when her friends didn’t stop laughing: “Also, it was pure luck that I ended up in the laundry room. I wouldn’t have had anything if it weren’t for that.”
“Okay, okay,” said Dorcas, “so, we’ve got Potter’s jersey, Diggory’s trainers, Mulciber’s signed goalkeeper gloves and Chang’s Hogwarts banner. What do we do next?”
Marlene grinned at this. “Use it as bait, of course,” she said.
She laughed her head off when she watched the video Marlene had made. Wearing a mask in a dark room, and with a distorted voice she told the boys from Hogwarts all-male college just what they had lost.
Within two hours the video had been watched 4718 times.
It was a week after Lily and her friends had robbed four boys from Hogwarts College. A week in which Mulciber had beaten up a group of males from Salem College – blaming them on his missing goalkeeper gloves, the girls had felt guilty about that – and in which James Potter had gone to soccer practice without a shirt – much to the delight of his female fans – filmed by Sirius Black, one of his friends from Gryffindor hall.
With a wide grin, Potter had winked at the camera, gesturing to his shirtless form: “This is for my girlfriend,” he had said. “You know who you are.” Of course, he was ridiculously lean and attractive.
Alice, Mary, Marlene and Dorcas had squealed as they saw this and Lily’s cheeks had flamed. “He’s such an arrogant toerag,” she had muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Yet, even though this Remus had obviously ratted her out, the five girls still had their priced possessions up in their living room, Potter’s soccer jersey being their pride and joy as it hung over their television.
They had discussed how they were going to return what they had taken over the weekend. On Thursday night, however, they were just enjoying a typical girl’s night when their doorbell rang and a loud knock interrupted their manicures.
Five heads shot up and four of them looked at Alice. “You told Frank he couldn’t come tonight, right?” Dorcas asked.
Alice huffed. “Of course!” Then she threw a pillow at Dorcas’ face. “At least Frank and I aren’t as clingy as you and Cameron.”
“Please,” said Dorcas, rolling her eyes, “Cameron and I are so over.”
This shocked the four other girls and they were just about to interrogate their friend when the doorbell rang again. Marlene let out a sigh. “All right,” she said, “I’ll go.”
Just before she opened their front door, she looked through the peak hole and then turned to the four of them. “Oh my God,” she said.
“What?” asked Mary and all four of them walked towards Marlene. “What is it?”
Marlene chanced a glance through the peak hole again. “Oh God no,” she then said, “it is him.”
“It’s who?” Lily asked, leaning against the door to their living room.
“James Potter,” Marlene then said and she could feel her heart start to race.
“What?”
The doorbell rang again and this time the knocking accompanied a voice. “I can hear you.” The voice was deep and sounded amused. “You might as well open up.”
A silent conversation took place in which all girls shared panicked glances. Then, finally, Lily shrugged. “Might as well, right?”
With a final glance in her direction, Marlene opened the door, plastering a grin on her face as she faced the intruder. “Can I help you?” she asked, sounding almost polite.
“Yeah,” said Potter and she could once again hear the amusement in his voice. “Actually, I think my girlfriend lives here? Pretty redhead, does my laundry and apparently steals my shirt?” Mary, Alice and Dorcas, who stood beside her nearly erupted in giggles. “I would love to meet her, really,” Potter continued.
“And who are you?” asked Marlene coolly.
“James Potter, of course.” Then, striding forward and past Marlene, as if she weren’t there. “Don’t be coy, Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene appeared shocked that he knew her name, but Lily only had eyes for the messy haired boy that had just entered. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking in the house before turning to Alice, Lily, Mary and Dorcas. Then he grinned, his eyes moving from her eyes downwards and up again. A satisfied look appeared in his eyes: “There you are, darling.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sent Marlene a quick glare as she closed the door behind Potter. “What?” Potter asked then. “Not all that thrilled to see me, sweetheart?”
“I don’t even know you,” she said, although she felt nerves erupt in the pit of her stomach.
“Hmm,” said Potter, taking a few steps in her direction, “but love, we had such a wonderful summer.” Then he smirked. “How is your aunt Gertrude? I do love that woman.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Clearly, you’re delusional.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he replied in return.
She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Just –” she eyed Marlene, who was wiggling her eyebrows, “I’ve got no idea why you’re here, so I suggest you state your business.”
He smiled crookedly. “I know you’re a doting girlfriend and all…” he said, his voice warm, “but I’m sure that jersey you stole from me is clean and neatly pressed by now.”
“Again,” she said, “I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You can check her room,” Alice piped up and Potter’s eyes flew to her. “Up the stairs, first door on the right.”
With a grin, Potter made for the stairs and Lily turned on her friend. “Some friend you are…” Alice smiled sheepishly and Lily then hissed: “Take that jersey down. Only chance.”
“My love,” said Potter, who was already halfway up the stairs, “come up. We might be able to fit in a quick snog… or shag. I’m not sure what kind of relationship we have.”
She pursed her lips before following him to her room. “You better not touch anything…”
He chuckled. “We both know you do all the touching and grabbing in our relationship.”
She could hear her friends run off to their living room and she was relieved to see he was waiting in front of the door to her bedroom. With his shoulder leaning against the wall, his eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “What are the odds, right?” he asked.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“The odds,” he repeats. “They must be pretty slim when it comes to your fake girlfriend with stalkerish tendencies being pretty.”
She opens the door to her room. “You’re mad.”
“You know,” he said, walking into her room, “if you were my real girlfriend we’d be having so much fun in this room.”
“Pervert,” she told him.
He laughed loudly. “Okay, jokes aside,” he said, suddenly narrowing his eyes. “Where is my shirt?”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest again. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
He huffed. “Right…” he said, “you know this would be a great prank if I didn’t actually need my shirt for the game I’ll play against your team this Saturday.”
“Doesn’t that make the prank all the better?” she asked then.
“From your perspective maybe,” he said. Then he let out a sigh. “Look, no hard feelings, but I need that shirt back.”
“I don’t have your shirt,” she told him without batting an eyelash.
“Come on,” he groaned and she felt goosebumps stand up on her arm at the sound, “one of my best mates caught you in the act.”
She very nearly cursed. His best friend, really? What were the odds of laundry guy being one of Potter’s best friends? “How would you know it was me?”
He smirked at that. “You’re not the only one known for her stealth.”
“I’m not known for my stealth.”
“Matter of speaking,” he told her and then: “We’ve been following you around. Gave you the benefit of the doubt, though.”
“What?” she asked, somewhat confused.
He took a step towards her, his one hand wrapping around her waist, his face getting closer to hers and her eyes found his lips. They mesmerized her as he spoke: “Evans, I know the shirt is in your living room.”
She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back slightly. “Then what are you up here for?”
“Because I would like to spend some time with my fake girlfriend,” he smirked back at her.
“Ugh,” she said, turning around and getting out of her room. “Okay, secret’s out,” she yelled at her friends, “just give him his shirt.”
“Lily!” an exasperated Marlene yelled. “Bait, remember?”
She rolled her eyes at her friend and then turned around to find Potter sneaking out of her room, closing the door behind him with a grin on his face. “What are you smiling at?” she nearly snapped at him, but his grin only grew wider.
“God, you’re sexy,” he said, shaking his head as he made to descend the stairs. She followed him, another blush tainting her cheeks.
Back downstairs, Marlene reluctantly handed Potter his shirt.
“Thank you, ladies,” he replied smoothly. Then he turned around and faced her again. “I will win this game for you, my love.”
She gritted her teeth as he left the house, although her heart beat hundred miles an hour and even though butterflies had – unwittingly – erupted in the pit of her stomach.
Mary shrugged. “Our team would have lost anyway.”
She had just come back from her biology class the next day when her phone buzzed. With a frown, she unlocked it and then her eyes went wide:
She stared at the screen for a few seconds. How did he even get her number and when did he get a chance to steal her knickers? She so should have known inviting him up to her room was a terrible idea. She pursed her lips, thinking and then smiled a wicked smile. “Oh, Potter,” she said, “the game is so on and you don’t even know it.”
"Could you please hurry up, Lily?" Alice sounded anxious as she opened the door to the dressing room she was currently searching. “Ten more minutes till the match ends."
"I'm trying, Alice," she said, closing another bag that was not Potter's. Only three more to go.
"How did I end up here?" laments Alice.
"Because Marlene loves soccer too much, Dorcas is busy snogging Royce behind the stands and Mary is working," she answered her friend, unzipping another bag and then she let out a triumphant cry. "Found it!"
“Great,” said Alice, sticking her head into the boys’ locker room, “so, what are you going to steal this time?”
“It’s not stealing,” said Lily, going through James Potter’s bag. “It’s payback.”
“You know,” started Alice, “I’m sure if you just talked to him you’d –”
Lily interrupted. “Talking is overrated,” she said and then with a grin she lifted a bright pink boxer from Potter’s bag. “Hmm…” she said, “I was hoping for something a bit more embarrassing, but this will have to do.” She opened her bag, hid Potter’s boxer and then hurried to the door, meeting Alice.
“Thank you, Alice,” she said, throwing an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Did I tell you you’re my favourite?”
Alice rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else someone cleared his throat.
“Hello ladies,” said a handsome, young man, one eyebrow raised and leaning against the wall with a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. His white shirt was wrinkled, his grey jeans ripped at the knees and his black hair placed in a messy bun on top of his head. “What were you doing in there?”
Alice froze next to Lily, while Lily raised an eyebrow in turn. “None of your concern.”
He smirked, pushing himself off the wall and started walking towards the pair of them. “You see…” he said, “I think it is.” He stopped right in front of her and then bared his teeth. “Lily Evans.”
She blinked at him, feeling somewhat annoyed. “How do you know my name?”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Prongs said you’d try something,” he said, his eyes narrowing at her. “I have to say you surprised me.”
“You’re –”
“Delusional?” he asked, his eyes flashing. “Nah, that’s just my mate, you see. You’re not going to win me over with just a bat of your eyelashes.”
She let out a sigh, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Look,” she started, “I don’t know who your mate is, but –”
Before she could say anything else, loud male voices echoed through the halls and as she turned around she found the Hogwarts’ soccer team approaching, James Potter leading the team. His hand flew to his hair as he noticed Lily standing there and she felt something a lot like attraction erupt in the pit of her stomach as she noticed that he was not wearing a shirt. She quickly looked away, her cheeks flaming.
“Padfoot,” he said as he approached, but she could tell his eyes were on her, “what’s going on?” His teammates headed for the locker room, leaving her, Alice, Potter and Padfoot to wait outside.
“Why don’t you tell him, Evans?”
She huffed, rolling her eyes. But Alice spoke up. “So… did you guys win?” Lily gave her friend a look and Alice smiled sheepishly. “Just thought I’d try to change the subject.”
Potter chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “we did win.” Then, after a short pause: “You know what, Padfoot, Alice, could you leave us alone for a bit?”
Her eyes widened and she looked at Alice, who smiled apologetically. “No,” she said, pleading her friend with her eyes, “that’s absolutely unnecessary.” Both Alice and Padfoot – what kind of name was that anyway – started walking away, leaving Lily alone with a shirtless Potter. “Great,” she muttered under her breath and Potter laughed at that, it was a deep and warm sound.
“Don’t panic,” he said, moving to stand in front of her, his eyes warm and amused. “How do you always end up running into my friends?”
She sighed, feeling a bit defeated. “I don’t know,” she said, “just my luck, I guess.”
“Or mine,” he said, grinning crookedly. His glasses were slowly sliding down his nose and before she could stop herself, she reached out to straighten them out. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks when she noticed the grin on his face widening.
“I can’t take you seriously looking like this,” she said.
“Hmm,” he said, taking a step towards her, “getting all hot and bothered, Evans?”
She huffed, but she ended up sounding strangled. “No.”
He laughed again, shaking his head, his long fingers combing through his hair. “Don’t worry, Evans,” he then said softly, his voice deep, “you’ve been all I thought about this week.”
She scoffed. “Sniffing my knickers, have you?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Nothing’s sexier than a whiff of laundry detergent.”
She guffawed. “You have been sniffing my knickers.”
“You stole my shirt and who knows what else you’ve done today.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Pervert.”
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” he said and then he sighed. “Look, I’ll give you back your knickers and you hand me back whatever you’ve taken just now and we’ll call it even.”
“We’ll call it even?” she repeated, raising one of her eyebrows.
Then he grinned again. “All right,” he said, “we’ll call it even if you agree to go out on a date with me.”
She stared at him for a second, thinking she misunderstood him. Then: “I think that’s blackmail.”
“Please,” he said, taking another step towards her. His fingers skimmed the sleeve of her shirt. “You’re my girlfriend already. Might as well take you out on a date.”
She laughed involuntarily. “When are you going to let that go? That was a cover story.”
“Quite a bad one,” he argued.
“Only because he was your friend.”
“True,” he replied and he smiled softly. “Come on, what do you say? Should we bury the battle axe?”
She eyed him. His eyes were a warm hazel, his skin tan from the time he spent playing soccer outdoors. His black hair was a mess, but in a good way, in a way that made her want to reach up, touch it and mess it up some more. She could not deny that she was attracted to him. She had been since he had shown up at her home, demanding back his shirt with that stupid grin on his face.
“Okay,” she said.
His eyes widened for a second. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, “let’s call it even.”
“Right,” he said, as though shaking himself and then, after a short pause: “does that mean you also –”
“You’re lucky you’re not wearing a shirt right now,” she told him, reaching into her bag and then handed him back his bright pink boxers. “But yes,” she said, “that does mean I’ll go out with you.”
He took his boxers from her hand and his cheeks flushed. “My mum usually buys my boxers.”
She let out a laugh and then smiled slyly. “I happen to love a man self-assured enough to wear pink.” Then, sending him a wink, she took a few steps backwards. “I’ll see you at eight,” she told him. “You better not disappoint, Potter.” She turned around, making sure to subtly swing her hips as she walked away from him.
“Game on, Evans!” he yelled in return and she grinned wide.
Prompt: “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to your bed.”
Also, Jilyfest!
“How do you do it?” Lily asked, her eyes fixed on the wedding guests on the dance floor, moving and twirling to the music. Her eyes fell on him once again, sitting with his best mate at a table directly across the dance floor. She felt her stomach swoop the way it had all evening.
The blonde finished what little remained of her drink before asking, “Do what, my dear?” Her voice was too casual for Lily’s liking. When the blonde failed to suppress a smirk, Lily threw a balled up paper towel at her, missing her by a mere inch.
“Don’t make me say it,” Lily begged, feeling heat rise from her shoulders to her neck and face.
“I’ve no idea–” Marlene started quite innocently, but Lily groaned.
“How do you just sleep with someone at a party?” she asked, struggling to sound as dignified as she could.
Marlene laughed, shaking her head at her friend. “I knew it,” she told her triumphantly. “I just knew you wanted to shag James Potter senseless.”
Out of sheer instinct, Lily glanced at his table again, half expecting him to have heard that. But the music and chatter of the party was far too loud to allow for any part of their conversation to carry to him. He was saying something to his mate and when their conversation seemed to lull, he stole a glance at her.
Lily felt her pulse at her throat.
Without hesitation, he grinned at her. Lily smiled back, praying that she did not look as ridiculous as she felt.
Marlene’s laughter was not unlike cackling.
“And apparently, he wants to shag you senseless too,” she observed.
Lily shot her a look that only succeeded in increasing her amusement. When at last, Marlene managed to sober up, she said, “To answer your delicate question–” Again, Lily glared, but the blonde went on. “The trick is to get him to take you home or something, then once there, you can ask him if wants to come in for tea.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know all that,” she said impatiently. “I’ve only seen you do it a thousand times.”
Marlene smirked yet again, adding a wink that made Lily wrinkle her nose slightly at her.
“What I meant,” Lily went on, “was how do you just… do it?” She finished this sentence quite unceremoniously, failing miserably to think of a way to say it without wishing she were dead.
Marlene opened her mouth, but before any words could leave her, Lily cut in hastily. “I know how that sounded and no, I am not asking for detailed instructions on how to ‘do it’,” she said tartly. “I meant, do you talk about anything to lead up to it? Do you do anything special to let him know you want to? Do you just snog him senseless and assume you both know what’s going to happen?”
“Ah,” said Marlene brightly. “Now we’re getting to the real questions.”
A new, much faster song began to play and it was received with loud cheers from the crowd, particularly from the bride and groom. When most of the excess noise had settled down, the blonde continued. “I think the last one, definitely,” she replied in what Lily thought was the most anticlimactic moment of her life.
Marlene must have guessed as much because she laughed again. “It’s pretty fantastic,” she explained. “You meet someone you like and you sleep with them. It’s good and straightforward.”
Lily glanced at him. He was laughing at something his friend was saying, his jaw becoming much more pronounced than it already was.
“Just go talk to him,” she encouraged. “Believe me, it happens more naturally than you think.”
Lily had the urge to look at him again, but she resisted. She could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eye, and the thought sent chills through her.
When Lily said nothing, Marlene rolled her eyes. “What are you afraid of? That he’s going to reject you? Believe me, he’s been gawking at you all evening.” The blonde glanced at his table, but Lily refused to do that same. “He was doing the same last night at the rehearsal dinner.”
“I’ve only really met him a few times before, though,” Lily said, more to herself. “He’s a good friend of Rebecca’s,” she added helplessly. “I only really met him when Ben started dating her.”
“You talked an awful lot during this whole wedding process, though,” she reminded her. “What did you two go on about anyway?”
Lily shrugged, “Food?”
Marlene raised her eyebrows.
“And other senseless stuff,” Lily added. “He’s charming–”
“–and crazy fit,” Marlene added for her.
“–but I don’t really feel like I know him,” Lily continued.
“That’s kind of the point of a one night stand,” the other quipped.
Lily paused, unsure of what to say next. The mere thought of initiating anything with him made her pulse accelerate, whether of unbridled nerves or excitement, she was not entirely sure yet. She had never been judgmental of anyone who spent a single night with someone, ready to forget them the following morning, but she had also never seen the appeal in it…. Until he offered her a lopsided smile during one of their conversations or laughed at her rubbish jokes. Though the thought of insinuating or doing anything provocative mortified her, she was convinced she had never felt the same type of electric attraction for anyone else.
Before Lily could dwell on that any longer, she felt a sharp pain on her shin as Marlene kicked her under the table. “He’s coming over,” she managed to say in a fierce whisper.
Lily had enough time to throw her a reproachful look, her leg throbbing in pain, before she looked up at him. He sent Marlene a quick greeting in the form of a nod, which she returned just as casually.
“Fancy a dance, Evans?” he asked, that same crooked smirk that drove her mad present on his already handsome face.
“Yeah,” she said, getting to her feet and avoiding meeting eyes with the blonde at all costs.She tried her best not to visualize the superior, smug grin on her best friend’s face at the moment.
Instead, she focused on James’s hand at the small of her back as they walked, burning through the very fabric of her dress. She felt her pulse quicken once again, wondering if he could feel it pounding through her skin where he touched her.
With another slanted smirk, he gently turned her to face him when they reached the dance floor, his hands falling to her waist as naturally as as rainfall. Her arms twisted around his neck, taking a moment to trace the faint freckles on his nose with her eyes, visible to her for the first time in the proximity they shared.
“You look nice,” he said as they moved to a particularly slow song.
She was determined not to miss a beat. “You, too,” she replied at once.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I do,” he agreed.
“Modest,” she commented, though she smiled.
They moved in a pleasant sort of silence. As they passed the bride and groom, Rebecca, the bride, caught Lily’s eye and gave her a thumb’s up. She felt herself blush, wondering how obvious her attraction had been.
“You all right?” he asked, quick to notice the change in her expression.
“Fine,” she said dismissively but perhaps too quickly to be believable. “Just a bit tired,” she added for good measure.
He laughed at that, and the sound was magnetic. “Yeah,” he agreed. “What are you going to do with your life now that this whole wedding business is done with?”
“Probably sleep for days,” she said truthfully, inspiring more laughter from him. “And wishing to never hear the words ‘lace’ or ‘centerpieces’ again.”
More laughter. “It’s madness,” he said. “It’s very nice and everything but it’s just mad.”
She nodded fervently. “And you got to watch the madness from afar. I got to be a part of it.”
“And even be it at times,” he added.
Lily threw him a poor attempt at a glare, which was entirely ruined by the quivering corners of her mouth. This ignited his laughter once more.
“At least one good thing came out of this,” he said after a short pause.
Her heartbeat began to race again, not because of his words but because of the way he was looking at her. There was no need to ask him exactly what because she felt it, too. It became suddenly apparent just how close their bodies were from one another. It became fiercely evident just how much closer she wanted them to be.
And the way he continued to look at her… his hazel eyes moving from hers down to her lips, where they rested briefly.
They had stopped dancing altogether, and it struck her just how odd they must have looked, motionless in the middle of the dance floor.
Suddenly, everything Marlene said about it happening naturally made perfect sense.
He was kissing her, lips moving hungrily over hers, all efforts of being neat or gentle forgotten with everything else they left behind at the reception. Lily was not sure how they managed to break away from the party, or what the ride to her flat was like, or even the brief trip up the stairs to her bedroom. All she knew was that he was kissing her fiercely as soon as her door shut closed behind them, his hands roaming her body fervently, desperate in their search for her skin under the fabric of her purple dress.
“Need help?” she teased against his lips.
He did not reply, busy as he was kissing her. Instead, his hands moved to her waist, and with one last gentle tug at her bottom lip with his teeth, he twisted her around. Lily yelped in surprise, the sound slowly giving way to a soft sigh as he swept her hair to one side and kissed her newly exposed neck.
“I think I can manage, Evans,” he breathed close to her ear, making her stomach tighten.
His hands moved to unzip her dress, successful in their task within seconds.The feeling of his hands following the descent of the fabric down her body drove her to the brink of madness. Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers moved to roam the expanse of her stomach. His teeth, meanwhile, pulled on the strap of her bra, letting it go gently. Lily sighed again as it snapped against her skin.
“Not fair,” she moaned.
“What’s not fair?” he asked. He sounded slightly breathless and that mere sound made her crave him more. She wanted nothing more but to tease him, push him to verge, before finally giving in.
“You’re still fully clothed,” she protested, quite out of breath herself.
James chuckled against her neck. “That just means I’m doing my job better than you are,” he said huskily, his lip tracking a line of hot kisses down her shoulder. The feeling was pure bliss.
“I doubt that,” she managed to say before allowing a soft moan to escape her. He was pulling the strap of her bra off her shoulder with his teeth. Lily could feel his lips curl into a smile against her skin, evidently enjoying the effect he had on her.
“Prat,” she whispered.
And before he could offer any more witty remarks, she rolled her body against his hips, pushing herself from the door to apply more glorious pressure. She could feel him against the curve of her body, swiveling against the exposed skin her knickers allowed as she moved, wonderfully distinguishable through the fabric of his trousers.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his fingers digging at her hips. Brusquely, he swirled around to face him again, and it was her turn to offer him a crooked smile. It seemed to have a similar effect on him because his breath audibly hitched slightly.
“What?” she whispered.
“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to your bed.”
“We can make it to my dressing table,” she offered innocently, as she fervently unbuttoned his shirt and discarded it next to her dress.
“I like the way you think, Evans,” he said against her neck, already walking her backwards towards the piece of furniture that was, thankfully, closer to them than her bed.
Her hands were already working on unbuttoning his trousers, and the simple gesture encouraged him. He lifted her slightly when they reached her dressing table, gently pushing her onto it and displacing perfume bottles and cosmetics.
Very deliberately, she pulled down the zipper of his trousers, watching his reaction the whole time. He looked down at her through half-closed eyes, his lips red from their frenzied kissing.
Unable to take her calculated progress with his zipper, he kissed her again as she finally pulled down his trousers. They fell to the floor and he paused their kissing only to step out of them, kicking his shoes off in the process.
The sight of his nearly naked body was better than she had imagined.
“Potter,” she whispered, her nails lightly grazing up the indents of his abdominal muscles. This seemed to have spurred something in him because, without saying a single word, he took her by the hips, positioning her long legs at either side of his own, pushed himself against her, the fabric of their underwear the only thing separating them now.
He grunted again as he moved, the moan she emitted prompting him to go faster. The dressing table was shaking almost uncontrollably as he moved.
There was a loud crash as one of her bottles of perfume crashed against the floor. James stopped his movements. “Oh, shit,” he murmured. “Sorry, Evans.”
Breathless, and slightly desperate to resume in their movements, she waved his apology aside impatiently. “Doesn’t matter,” she told him breathlessly, even though it was the most expensive perfume she had ever owned.
He opened his mouth to argue but she kissed him, pressing her hips against his again, encouraging him to resume their movements. He did and the second time around, it send waves of pleasure throughout her body, making her desperate to vanquish the last remaining garments.
Just as he was speeding up like she breathlessly urged him too, he grunted, “Fuck!”
“You like that?” she asked, eyes closed.
But he had stopped moving entirely, uttering instead a string of curses.
Lily opened her eyes, realizing at once that something was wrong. “Are you alright? What’s happened?”
“I stepped on the glass of your perfume bottle,” he grunted as he tried to peel the shards of glass buried on his skin and already stained with blood. “I think it cut– fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Lily hopped off the dressing table at once, careful not to step on the broken shards of glass herself. “Right,” she said in a competent manner, immediately snapping into her role. Gently, she helped him onto her bed. “I’m going to clean the wound and see if you need stitches, yeah? Lay down for me.” She propped up as many pillows and throws behind him as she could reach.
Moving swiftly, she retrieved a First Aid Kit from her bedside dresser.
“There’s a lot of blood,” James warned her as she began to studiously examine the cut at the base of his foot.
Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m used to that,” she replied and when he gave her a blank look, she added, “Being a nurse and all.”
“Brilliant,” he said with a grin, which was immediately followed by a wince of pain. “I didn’t know you were a nurse.”
Somehow, the comment made her stomach twist in shame. Lily became suddenly aware of just how undressed she was as she worked on cleaning the wound. She could feel her face brighten with color.
“Loads of things make sense now,” he continued through gritted teeth as she disinfected the cut. He was unaware that anything else he said only made her feel worse, the sinking feeling in her stomach drilling deeper and deeper.
He must have picked up on something because he did not add anything else. A long silence fell between them, much more uncomfortable than any moment they had shared.
The traffic noise outside her window, although distant, seemed less busier than on most nights. It must be late, she thought. She did not register the time they left the party. Her bedside table clock had been broken for months and her cellphone was in her purse downstairs, which she had flung carelessly aside as they rushed to her bedroom.
Another unpleasant jolt of embarrassment.
“So, the good news is you won’t need stitches,” she informed him when she had finished cleaning all the blood. “But it is going to sting for a while when you walk.”
James let out a breath he had been holding in. “Fuck,” he muttered, letting his head fall helplessly against the mound of pillows she had created. “My coach is going to murder me.”
Despite herself, Lily threw him a curious look.
“My football coach,” he explained. “He’s not going to be happy that I messed up my foot so close to playoffs.”
Lily opened her mouth to ask what team he played for, but she stopped quite abruptly, feeling the sense of embarrassment accost her again. It was dawning on her, and on him too perhaps, that they knew so little about the other.
She said nothing as she carefully bandaged his foot, feeling utterly humiliated. If he hadn’t injured himself, she thought in disgrace, she would be doing something that was completely out of character or her.
“I’m all done,” she announced, quite needlessly for she had stopped bandaging his foot seconds ago. Before he could give her a reply, she stood from where she kneeled on the mattress, becoming increasingly more aware of her near-nakedness.
Without saying much else, she strode to where her dress lay forgotten. As quickly as she could, she slipped back into it, thinking there was no dignified way to accomplish the task. She didn’t bother to fix the straps or zip it up. All she cared about was that she was covered.
When she returned to her bed to sit on the edge opposite of James, she realized he had been watching her very quietly.
“What?” she asked him for he opened his mouth, but had closed it just as fast.
He paused for a moment, running his hand through his messy black hair. With another heavy breath, he said at last, “That wasn’t me.” He was propped up on his elbows and his eyes fell to his bandaged foot. Lily noticed his cheeks flushed slightly.
At her silence, he moved his eyes to hers. With a humorless laugh and with a small shake of his head, he amended, “It was me but it’s not how I would have liked to do things.”
Hearing the words elated her more than it should have. Lily felt her shoulders relax and the shame in the pit of her stomach subsided slightly.
“Me neither,” she admitted quietly.
James gave her a weak smile, the faint color still present on his cheeks. Even the betrayal of embarrassment on his features made her feel more at ease.
“It was brilliant,” he assured her quickly, his distress becoming more apparent as he spoke. It became obvious to her that he was worried their failure to culminate what promised to be euphoric for both of them would be a blow to her pride. Lily pressed her lips together, finding something irrevocably lovely about that.
“Yes,” she agreed adamantly. “It was good for me too.”
He grinned, his shoulders visibly relaxing. Once more, he let his head rest against the pillows. “We’re rubbish at this one night stand thing, aren’t we?”
Lily laughed, relishing in the familiar, cheerful air they were creating.
“Pathetic,” she agreed. “I don’t know how other people do it.”
His grin slowly faded and a bit more seriously, he said, “I do.” When she threw him an inquisitive look, he added, “They’re all right with the prospect of never seeing the other person again.”
The words hung there like pendants.
Lily felt her pulse hasten, throbbing loudly against her chest in a very similar way it had done so throughout the night as their eyes met.
James was looking at her that very same way, his eyes unwavering from hers. “I don’t think I’d ever be alright with that,” he said softly.
“Me neither,” she replied without thinking, yet knowing the words were undeniable.
Another silent exchange, before he grinned, inspiring laughter from her. She watched him relax further into the pillows, throwing his arms behind his head. Lily crossed her legs on the mattress, facing him. Very carefully, she spread the skirt of her dress over her legs.
“So, Nurse Evans,” he started, much casually. “Who has been your most memorable patient?”
Lily feigned being deep in thought. “Well,” she started thoughtfully, “there was this one bloke who broke the bottle of my favorite perfume and then cut himself with it.”
James laughed. “What an idiot,” he commented just as cheerfully.
“Yeah, he’s really fit, though,” she went on. “An a football player, I hear.”
“The best one in the country, in fact,” he added.
Lily laughed. As a warmth spread across her chest at the sight of the smile he was giving her, Marlene’s words from earlier that night echoed in her head:
“It’s pretty fantastic. You meet someone you like and you sleep with them. It’s good and straightforward.”
And as James set off explaining everything from the team he played for to his position on the field with an unparalleled passion in his eyes, Lily thought being there, listening and laughing with him, was much, much better.